


Aware

by oleanderedits



Series: A [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Changing fates, Child Abuse, Do-Over, Drug reference, Gen, Hindsight is 20/20, Jacqui lives, Minor Character Death, Off-screen death, Second Chances, Sophia Lives, redo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:25:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderedits/pseuds/oleanderedits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been given a second chance to save their family. They're going to do their best not to screw it up. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4876846/chapters/11180926">Awake</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving On

They lived what felt like a lifetime repeating that day over and over again. Stuck in some sort of limbo that they'd given up on trying to figure out the why's or how's of save for one: how to stop it. Trial and error across too many repeats to remember anymore had whittled it down to keeping the people they cared about alive and safe. To the best of their ability within that single day, anyway.

The four in the camp had it down to science.

Carol would get up, wake Sophia, have her grab their things and put them just outside their tent. Round the side where Ed couldn't see them immediately when he got up. She'd make a quick breakfast for the two of them, take some laundry from Carl, and strap on the weapons hidden inside while Ed mumbled and groaned and eventually pulled himself out of bed. He'd scratch at himself the way he did and stick that cigar in his mouth, exit the tent and yawn. He'd head over to his chair and sit down. Then he'd call to Carol for some food and wait. That was when Carol would take Sophia by the shoulder, have her grab their things, and start off across the camp toward the Dixons.

Glenn would wake and head straight for Daryl's tent to get a spare machete off his friend. He'd strap it on so the sheath was snug against the back of his waist, covered by his baggy shirt then head up to the RV to talk to Dale and have his own breakfast with him and Andrea and Amy. The three treated him like a younger brother, a brave but ultimately stupid teen they needed to watch out for. He put up with it so he could rush through his breakfast and find an excuse to head back across the camp right after because he 'forgot' something in his tent. His path would cut behind Ed as the man followed Carol and Sophia on their way to the Dixons.

Carl had to be quiet when he woke up. His mom was a pretty light sleeper and if he wanted any chance of getting things ready before she got up on her own, he had to be careful. He usually avoided putting his shoes on or trying to do anything other than slip out of the tent. After he was safe, he'd jog around to Daryl's camp and take the small bundle of what looked like dirty laundry left out for him and head up to the RV. He'd smile at Shane and let the man give him a quick morning hug, tell him he was just trying to get a jump on the chores when asked what he was doing without his momma around. Shane never looked too closely on the bundle and Carl made sure of it by telling him his mom was sleeping in and maybe Shane could wake her up? Shane always paused for a second at that, considering, before shaking his head and pushing Carl to go on and get. And Carl always did. He would jog over to hand the 'laundry' to Carol. Once that was ready, he'd scurry back to the front of the RV and greet his yawning mother with a hug. And then he'd pull away to go say hello to Sophia as Carol pulled her over to the Dixons.

Daryl would wake up and get right to work pulling out extra knives and an extra gun for the trip. The gun was his spare and he bundled that up with a good 7-inch skinning knife, wrapping the two in a couple pairs of jeans and a formerly-white t-shirt. Just a big enough lump for Carl to grab on his way past. A machete with a belt sheath was handed over to Glenn. Both got to them before Merle was out of his tent for the day. Neither looked to Daryl and Daryl didn't look to them. It kept attention away from the oddity of what they were doing. It wouldn't last, but it was needed for the set-up. He'd then take a quick detour over to his brother's bike and pull out his stash. Merle was usually stirring by then and Daryl didn't have a lot of time to get the drugs, and if he could have given it to Carl with the knife and gun, he would have. But they'd done this long enough to know that wasn't possible. He had only enough spare seconds to get his ass back to his tent and make it look like he was just climbing out before Merle was actually doing the same. He was able to shove the drugs under one of his shirts and grab his crossbow, then sit himself down to clean it for the day. He got done with the inspection in time for Merle to start his bellyaching about breakfast and for Carol to head their way.

Carl met Carol and Sophia half-way and would take Sophia by the hand to lead her to the tailgate of Daryl's truck. What protests Merle had were cut off by Carol calling out to him with her so-polite 'Mister Dixon!'. It always caught the man off guard. Daryl had stopped trying to hide the grin his brother being floored by the woman brought. Merle didn't usually notice it because they'd gotten the timing down to near perfect and by the time Carol was saying the words 'abusive' and 'beats me', Glenn was behind Ed, machete loose in his wrist. Merle noticed this even as he noticed Ed reaching out to grab Carol. Practically the whole camp stopped to watch the confrontation by that point because Glenn didn't particularly hide that he'd followed Ed over with a drawn weapon. Not that Carol talking to the Dixons was more than enough cause for alarm even without Glenn's behavior. Merle didn't usually get a chance to act beyond that, though.

Carol would pull the knife Carl had slipped her as she spun around and it would be pressed to Ed's throat before he could process what was going on. Glenn would have his machete to the back of the man's throat at the same time his free hand firmly dropped onto Ed's shoulder and held him. Daryl's crossbow would flip up and he'd move to hover over Carol's left shoulder. Right where Ed could see the bolt aimed directly at his head. The four of them would then very carefully and steadily move Ed backwards and up to the clearing in front of the RV. It was as much to put distance between him and Sophia as it was to make sure everyone watching could hear what was said to the man.

“You don't get to touch me, Ed,” Carol spoke clearly, loudly, and without any fear. “You don't get to touch Sophia. You don't come near either of us again. We're going to be staying with the Dixons from now on. They're good men. Better than you have ever been. And you don't get to come near us. If you do, if you try to touch me or touch Sophia, I _will_ kill you. Do you understand me?”

Ed gulped as he always did, his eyes sliding over to Daryl. Then he'd sneer and open his big mouth, “You been cheating on me, bitch?”

The first time he'd said that, Glenn had knocked him upside the head with the pommel of his machete. It'd put the fear of God into everyone but Ed, who just ended up out cold. As much as he really wanted to do that, he knew better. This was Carol's demon to deal with.

Carol smiled sweetly and shook her head. Her knife bit into the soft flesh of Ed's chin and she used it's point to direct his attention back to her like she would a finger. “No. But I do want a divorce. I'm taking custody of Sophia and you get to live. I know it's not an equal split, your life being so worthless, but at least you get to have one. So long as you stay away from us. This is your only warning.”

That was usually the signal for everyone to take a step back. Carol took two before sheathing her knife and lifting her shirt to the side so she wouldn't fumble with drawing it. Glenn released Ed's shoulder, then walked around behind Daryl before putting his machete away where Ed could see him do it. As an intimidation tactic, it was pretty effective. Glenn then took his jersey off so he was left in just his t-shirt. It was for the same reason Carol had tucked her own clothing to the side. He wanted to be able to grab his knife at a second's notice. His jersey, much as he liked it, would get in the way. Daryl waited until Ed started back towards his tent, fuming and cursing up a storm, before letting his crossbow drop and rejoining Merle.

By then Carol was already back, speaking in hushed tones with his brother. Treating him like he was a man as good as Rick was. She was alternating between reassuring Sophia that they'd be safe with the Dixons and thanking Merle and making it clear both her and her daughter would pull their own weight. Merle could never quite tell them to fuck off and git at that point. After all, if Merle hadn't left home when he did, he would have killed their daddy for the things he'd done. He was fully cognizant of what Carol had just done and the risk the two were at while Ed was still around.

After the camp calmed down a little and Shane and Lori shared a moment, Lori would hurry over to talk to Carl and make sure he was alright. She'd get there in time to hear Daryl tell Merle he'd go into Atlanta for the day instead and that Merle should stay and watch Sophia. No one else knew they'd be gone overnight and Daryl trusted Merle not to try and find his stash while he held the responsibility of a twelve year old girl in his hands. It kept that confrontation delayed if they ever managed to pull their plan off.

Lori would give Carol a look like Carol was crazy for trusting the Dixons despite how Daryl had just helped her put real distance between her and Ed. But Carol wouldn't give her a chance to do much more. She'd pat Sophia on the shoulder and tell her to stick close to Merle. That she was going to go into the city, too. They'd need to get some gear to replace what Ed was keeping. Then she'd be off to find Glenn and Lori would be left with Carl and Sophia looking up her expectantly. Carl would be told to go ask Dale or Andrea or Jacqui – or whoever else Lori's eyes fell on first – for some chores just to keep him away from the Dixons. Carl wouldn't protest (which really should have been her first clue something was up) and would dart off after giving Sophia's hand a squeeze. Sophia would then hop down from the truck and go over to take Merle's hand and hold it tightly.

The shock of it was enough to cut Merle off from whatever quiet, but heated, argument he had going on with Daryl at the time. Daryl would pat his shoulder and then duck into his tent to get a few things he'd need for the trip. Merle's stash would be at the bottom of the small bag he packed, though he left it mostly empty so it wouldn't cause suspicion. The four of them had enough experience with sleeping in the same clothes for weeks on end that not having anything for an overnight wasn't really a problem. The last thing he did before heading to meet Glenn at the car was grab Merle's spare vest. He never looked over his shoulder as he shrugged it on, so he never saw the way his brother looked at him when he claimed the damn thing as his own.

Sophia saw it, though. She saw it and she would squeeze Merle's hand and whisper up at him, “You don't have to worry. He's wearing your wings now.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything? And I ain't worried,” he'd mutter and try half-heartedly to pull his hand from hers.

She'd smile shyly and give a small shrug, “Because they're your wings. They'll protect him. Like you always do. That's what momma said.”

He would eye her and his mouth would move as he glanced between her and Carol's back, “Is that right?”

“Yup. She said you'll do whatever it takes to protect Daryl and that's why we can trust you,” Sophia affirmed every time the car drove off. And then she'd look nervously at his knife, “Momma also said I should ask you to teach me how to skin a squirrel. We don't have to do that, though.”

The car would only leave with three people anymore: Daryl at the wheel, Glenn in the passenger seat, and Carol in the back. It would leave and the people in camp would stand there watching it drive off, not sure what the hell had happened to change those three so drastically. Shane rubbed his hands over his head and to the back of his neck before dropping them down to his waist. He'd look to Dale in confusion and Dale would shrug. T-Dog stood there like he was seeing Glenn with new eyes. Andrea and Amy, too, their arms crossed before Andrea finally blinked and shook her head, “Well that was... something.”

“He's never been like that,” Dale complained loudly. “I've never seen him like that. Like he... he was the king of us all. And Carol... I mean, I'm glad she's finally doing something about Ed, but...” He shook his head, then nodded, “I think it has to be Daryl. I mean... it's not normal for them to be like that. To be so selfish. It has to be him.”

Shane snorted, but he didn't say anything because Lori always came running up at that point, asking if he'd seen Carl.

…

The trip to King County was about five hours in the best of conditions. Leaving as they did right around eight in the morning and stopping only when they had to for gas and supplies, they usually got into town and in front of the Grime's residence right around four in the afternoon. The house Morgan and Duane holed up in wasn't that far and they'd found Morgan believed them a lot easier if they didn't pull up right outside his hideaway. It was simpler for Rick to ask him for cover as he went back to his place and did some real scrounging. The two would be just finishing up as the car stopped and both he and Morgan were 'surprised' by Carl calling out for his dad and running to them.

The others would follow out of the car, keeping an eye out for walkers. Carol explained their story as she always did and was good about not embellishing too much. Too many details were just as bad as too little. They'd all move on to Morgan's place before walkers could be attracted to the noise. Carl and Duane would get along as Carl had the same argument with Duane over some comics as he always did. The extra time to talk was important. Getting there early enough meant they weren't waiting in silence for walkers to stumble away from the doors and windows. It meant Rick could leverage Morgan into doing what was needed. At least to the point that he had the gun up and aimed at his wife.

Usually they all had the frustration of him not being able to do it. Of Morgan sitting there, crying to himself for hours on end and not able to squeeze the trigger. Or getting mad at them and yelling, drawing walkers, if they tried to edge him on. Eventually they started taking turns going up there with him and trying to convince him to just do it. That, yes, it was hard, but it had to be done. If he didn't shoot before sunrise, they woke up back where they had been and did it all again. They kept going.

They had stopped counting how many times they'd tried before Carol finally got through to him.

“She's not your wife,” Carol said bluntly, around three am after a good five hours of waiting for him to just get it over with. She knew that she'd screwed up their chances for the night with her tone. But she was frustrated and tired of the wait. The look Rick shared with her said he was too, and that he didn't blame her. He got up and left the room to let Glenn and Daryl know it wasn't going to happen this time around. Left her and Morgan alone.

Morgan gave her a murderous glare.

She wasn't apologetic in the least and met his gaze straight on, “She's not. That body out there isn't her. Not anymore. It's just a _thing_. Your wife died a long time ago. All that _thing_ is doing, is wearing her face. Stop thinking that shooting it is destroying what's left of your wife. She's already gone. The only way for you and your boy to be safe is to move on from it.”

Carol stood up, arms crossed, and sighed before heading to the door. She pulled it open and paused in the door way, “Kill it or don't. That's on you. Either way, you need to come back with us to camp tomorrow. Your life isn't the only one your indecision is holding up.” Giving him one last pointed look, she left to get some sleep. No one was surprised that Morgan didn't shoot the walker. He never shot her.

But they were surprised when morning came and they woke up in that house in King County.

Morgan sat on the steps to the upper level as they stirred and he waited until they were all awake to speak softly into the silence, “We should leave now. Before I change my mind about going.”


	2. Return

"We'll need to move the camp as soon as we get back," Glenn said shifting in his seat so he could pull one leg up and stretch the other one out as far as possible. Five hour road trips were still a pain to have to sit through.

"Why? You said it was safe," Morgan asked, looking between the three adults that had come to find Rick.

Glenn nodded, "It has been. But it's not going to be. I do most of the runs into Atlanta for supplies." He turned in his seat to look back at Morgan. "Basically since this thing began. There's not enough noise or food left for the walkers in the city anymore. They've eaten most everything they can and the people they haven't are well hidden. They don't make noise or draw attention. So all the walkers have to follow is the sound of cars or even birds and dogs or wild animals in the night."

"There's enough howling to draw them toward the mountains," Daryl added in. He kept his eyes on the road, though. "Wild dogs and strays that have started to go feral, mostly. But it's going to draw them out."

"And once they're out, they're going to follow whatever living things they can see and smell. Deer, bears, birds," Glenn continued, looking back to his map. "People. They're already starting to leave the city. Which means that the city, at least some of the outer suburbs, will be safe for us to head into for a couple days."

"Have you thought about Fort Benning?" Rick asked as if the thought had just occurred to him. "It's a military base. Could still be safe."

Carol looked over, smiling brightly at Rick like he was a genius, "You know, Shane was talking about that just a couple weeks back. Said it might be best to head there for the winter if no one came to find us before the end of September.

Morgan relaxed again as he thought all that over. Rick watched him for a moment before nodding and turning his attention back to Carol, "I'm surprised you didn't all decide to head there already."

"Shane's too afraid to move," Daryl answered with a snort, making it very clear what he thought of Shane's so-called leadership. "We got water in the old quarry, plenty of hunting, decent enough sight-lines during the day, and access to Atlanta for runs. He's afraid to give that up. He can't see that every day we stay someplace without walls we're getting one step closer to a massacre."

Rick's reaction wasn't feigned as his mouth pressed into a line and his jaw clenched. It had taken the camp being overrun for Shane to consider moving them all. It would happen again tonight if they stayed. He nodded slowly, arm tightening around Carl, who looked up at him. Morgan would see only the worry of a father.

But in Daryl, he saw something else. Daryl was the first to disparage the current leadership of the camp. The others had avoided doing so, even going so far as to praise Shane for keeping them together. He considered that and directed his attention to their driver, "You don't like Shane?"

"I ain't got any real problem with him," Daryl shrugged. "He's just bull headed and stubborn enough to make things real difficult sometimes. Tries to play at being leader, but don't wanna make rules for people to follow. Most of 'em follow him just 'cause he's a former Deputy and cops are people they used to look to for safety. But no one's really in charge and he let's a lot of stuff slide that he shouldn't. If it don't directly affect him and his, he pretends he's blind to it."

Carol sighed loudly and reached in front of her to thread her fingers into Daryl's hair, knowing he was talking about her and Ed. Then she smirked, "It's okay, Pookie. You don't have to pretend not to be mad at him."

"Shut up, woman, tryin' ta drive," Daryl muttered, obviously embarrassed and unable to keep a smile from his face as his cheeks reddened.

Glenn and Rick and Carl shared a laugh at his expense with Carol. Morgan smiled, too, though he could tell there was real concern about something in the teasing. An actual problem that had been overlooked. Or ignored on purpose.

"So... Fort Benning," Glenn said after a comfortable silence had settled for a bit. "That's 125 miles. If we're heading there, we'll need to downsize the number of vehicles we have so gas can be rationed better. And we should stick close to the city, too, for a couple of days. Go through some of the suburbs like I was talking about. Might be able to find some cars with better gas mileage. Or another RV like Dale's. A bus, maybe."

"Not really great gas mileage with those," Rick said, though his voice was thoughtful.

Glenn shrugged, "I was thinking that anything with diesel might be better to take. There's more survivors out there than us. We've seen evidence of it. They'll be siphoning gas for their cars, too. Diesel means we'll have less competition."

"We could look for bikes, too," Daryl added quietly. "Small tanks, but good mileage. Could use them to scout the road for the rest of the group. Wouldn't need more'n one or two. Merle's got one. I can ride if we can find one."

"What about your truck?" Carl asked, finally speaking up. "Who would drive that?"

"Carol," Daryl answered without hesitation. "She and Sophia can ride in it. We can put the extra gear in there, too. Tents, tarps, cooking gear, extra clothes. All the things we can live without if we have to drop and run. Food can be split between the RV and a coupla other cars. Medicine and the like, too."

"I should have brought something to write on," Carol sighed. "All this planning and nothing to write it down on. We'll need lists of supplies so people know what to look for when they go through houses. Essentials first, then luxury items. That's going to take time to put together."

Glenn bent over and dug through his backpack where it sat on the floorboard in front of him, "I have a pocket notepad and a pencil. You don't have to get the lists done before we get there, though. As long as we can leave within a couple of hours of getting back, we should be able to get to a neighborhood and hole up before dark. Maybe even with the Vatos if we're lucky."

"The Vatos?" Morgan asked as most of the group looked to Glenn with raised eyebrows.

"Group of survivors in the city I've seen around. They don't know about me," he admitted, trying to figure out how to put this without resorting to an outright lie. "But I know where they're at and I've been inside the place. I know they aren't a threat to us if we can talk to them. They're sticking around to take care of elderly in a senior living center that couldn't evacuate and were mostly abandoned by their caregivers."

"They don't know about you?" Rick asked before Morgan could. He knew why, of course, but until they all had a chance to be alone together and plot things out, they had to play it like certain things came as a surprise.

Glenn stilled for a moment before grinning and turning around, "I'm fast on my feet and know how to get in and out. If I don't want to be seen, I'm not."

Even without knowing the in joke, Morgan had to laugh at that along with the rest. The confidence the kid had and his good humor was pretty infectious.

"Well, sounds like we got ourselves a plan," Rick drawled and looked down at Carl. "Might even work. As long as your mother doesn't kill any of us for lettin' you run off like that."

…

Lori was in a state of utter panic and there wasn't much Shane could do to help her. No one could, really. Carl was gone and the Atlanta group hadn't come back. The coincidence wasn't lost on anyone. It was a good bet Carl had probably stowed away in the car.

"What if he's the reason they haven't come back?" Lori asked, not for the first time. "What if he climbed out after they got into town and followed them and then walkers came down on him and they all got trapped somewhere? What if he's hurt? What if he's-" She couldn't finish the thought and Shane tried to wrap his arms around her, but she pushed him away, having none of it. She didn't want comfort. She wanted her son back. "We should send someone to find them."

"We can't do that," Shane protested and was met with the most hateful glare he'd ever gotten from her. "It's not that I don't want to, Lori. You know that. But we don't know where in the city they went. We send someone in, they run just as much a risk of getting hurt and stuck as Glenn and the others did."

"You said they'd be back in the morning, Shane," she bit out, throwing his words back at him. "That's what you said last night. That if they had to hole up, they'd be back in the morning. Well, guess what? It's not morning anymore. It's half-way through the day and they still aren't back."

"Don't be so sure," Dale called down, squinting hard through his binoculars. "There's something kicking up a dust cloud at the end of the road over there."

Lori and Shane both stopped long enough to share a wide-eyed look before running to scramble up onto the RV's roof. Lori demanded to have the binoculars and Dale passed them over before she tried taking them from his neck and choking him with the strap. Shane hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder while he shielded his eyes with the other. When she didn't try to pull away, he let that other hand slip down to the small of her back where his thumb rubbed her in gentle circles. Dale caught it, of course. And he wasn't surprised. Practically everyone in camp with eyes could tell the two were spending more time together than strictly necessary. But the two did usually try to hide it. Lori especially.

"It is them," Lori breathed out and pushed the binoculars into Dale's chest as she clamored back down the side of the RV. Shane took a moment to have a breather before following her. The two of them and half the camp were waiting at the top of the hill when the car pulled in. Merle was pretending not to care by leaning against the hood of Daryl's truck, but Sophia clinging to his arm and tugging on it in both excitement and apprehension made it difficult to keep the facade up.

"What the hell happened?" Shane shouted at them while Lori hovered near his shoulder.

"Don't get your britches in a bunch," Daryl barked back as he got out and headed to the back passenger door to pull it open. "Carl just had us take a detour to grab some friends."

Any reply Shane had for that died in his throat as Rick stood up and leaned against the car door, Carl coming around his side with his dad's hat on his head. Lori's strangled cry echoed over the camp as she bolted for the car and her family.

…

The reunions that came were short lived, as were the introductions of Morgan and Duane. Rick took charge like a fish to water. He called everyone together after a short consolation with Shane and announced his intentions to take his family and try for Fort Benning. At the protests that came, he stepped back and Glenn stepped up.

"We can't stay here," he said with a calm certainly that most of them had never seen from him. He had always been awkward and unsure of himself around most of them. Quiet and always able to offer a smile. But he wasn't the kind of person any of them looked to as a leader. Until that moment.

"Like I told Rick and the others in the car," he prefaced so everyone knew this had already been discussed. "The walkers are starting to move out of the city. There isn't enough for them left to eat there and it's too quiet to keep them distracted with lights and sounds. All the sounds are coming from outside the city. Not from us, but from nature. Wild animals. Birds. Feral dogs and cats that have already left to find new food sources of their own. We saw it on the way to King County. Whole herds of walkers. Not just a handful, but dozens of them all walking together, following whatever noises they hear. We managed not to get stuck in behind or in a pile up and were able to outrun them. But it's happening. And if some were heading north, others will be heading south and east and west. We need to pack and move."

He paused to let that sink in, looking around the gathered camp and meeting every eye he could. Then he continued, "We've discussed it already and we think our best bet is to drive out tonight, make a loop around the city to the other side and take refuge in a suburb. We'll do a wide loop along back roads and small state highways so we aren't as likely to get stuck by a pile up. Once there, we'll circle the wagons, and I mean that literally." He knelt down and drew in the dirt. First the outline of a couple streets, a crossroads, and then a circle in the middle with an 'x' in it. "We're going to circle all the cars we have so there's a barrier between us and any walkers that might be around. Once we have a small camp set up, we'll stay there for a couple days and do organized runs into the nearby houses.

"We plan to stay for two full days and leave by noon on the third. Whatever we don't get by then, we leave. We don't go and leave the circle at night and any walkers we come across we deal with silently. No gun fire. It's very likely we'll have a decent sized herd on us after we ride in, just from the engine noise. But we can keep danger to a minimum if we use knives and crowbars and bats to take them out from the cars. The cars will give us the high ground if we climb on them. It's the safest we can be without having a fence between us and them."

He took a deep breath and stood up, "The third day is going to be the hardest. We're going to need to downsize to conserve as much gas as possible for the trip to Fort Benning. That means figuring out which cars have the best gas mileage verses how many people can fit in them. Daryl's already volunteered his truck for gear we can ditch if we have to, so that's going to free up a lot of riding space inside the cars we do keep. Try to be realistic about this when we have to strip everything down, not sentimental.

"As of now we have three and half hours until sunset. We need to be gone in an hour. Pack everything you have, get them in your cars and be ready to go. If you need help packing or don't have room for something, come get me, Rick, Carol, or Daryl. We'll help you or find space for whatever you need. If you aren't coming with us, make sure Rick and Carol know so they know who to account for."

Glenn folded his arms over his chest and looked around expectantly, "What are you waiting for? Get to it."

The group broke up with sheepish and surprised looks all around.

…

Merle was taking stock of the shift in the group as Daryl and Carol went about packing up their things quickly and efficiently. A half hour after Glenn had said his piece and verbally kicked everyone's ass into gear, Merle still hadn't lifted a finger to help. He had questions of his own and he was waiting for a lull in the noise of the camp so his voice would carry when he turned to his brother and drawled out, "So when you been gone hunting and don't come back with much... You're telling me you've actually been going up and checking that hospital for the kid?"

"That's what I said," Daryl replied, not bothering to look up. He knew his brother smart enough to see through the lie. But he also knew the events lined up just enough to support the clear impossibility of the story. Made it plausible. Others in the group had thought it insane, too, but there wasn't much they could do to refute it or prove it wrong. He also knew his brother was trying to force something else. Something between the two of them.

"And you're good with this plan?" Merle continued, watching his brother carefully. It wasn't like he thought his brother had really been replaced with a doppleganger, but he wasn't the Daryl he had been just a couple days before. Something had changed drastically. It didn't sit well with him, not being able to read his brother.

Daryl snorted, almost instantly wise to Merle's game. His brother was trying to undermine Rick and Glenn's authority. Trying to get Daryl to say he wasn't sure about it. Undermine the authority the four of them had imposed over everyone on their return. The shift wasn't one his brother would take well. He tossed two bags into the back of their pickup where Sophia waited to organized everything and then stopped and looked at Merle. He looked at him and he could feel the eyes and ears of most of the camp, including his friends, on him. Merle was trying to sow distrust, well, Daryl would just make sure that bridge was crossed and burned before Merle could get a real foot hold on it.

"I like these folks," Daryl said at the same volume Merle had. He said it and then he locked eyes with his brother and one-uped him in a way Merle was sure to make him pay for later. "I know we talked about robbing them blind when we first found 'em, but I don't want to do that no more." Merle's eyes flared wide and the shocked silence from the rest of the camp was so thick not even Michonne's sword could have cut it. Only the other four weren't affected, just kept going, business as usual. His family neither surprised or caring about the admittance. They knew that wasn't who he was anymore. And that quiet show of faith and trust gave him the kind of confidence he'd have never known in the world before the outbreak. "Haven't wanted to for while. I want to stay with them. I want to help them. I want to protect them. And I want you to be with me while I do."

He hadn't wanted to give Merle the ultimatum so soon, but he didn't want his brother making things worse later. He wanted it over and done with. Whatever way it fell, "If you don't want to follow, that's your choice. I ain't gonna walk out on you Merle. But I ain't gonna walk out on them, neither. If you walk, that's you leaving." Daryl got up in his brother's face and poked him hard in the chest. "Again."

He took a step back and held his hand out for a bag Glenn had brought over. He didn't break eye contact with Merle until after he'd tossed that bag into the truckbed and Carol had called him over for help with something.

 

 


	3. Breaking Camp

Shane cornered Rick as soon as he had a chance, “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Rick asked, more than a little exasperated. He had a caravan to move out and did not have time for Shane's second-guessing.

“About them!” the other man hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “About Daryl? Did you know he was planning on robbing us?” Rick rolled his eyes and Shane shook his head, “Do not do that to me, brother. Do not dismiss this. You're treating him like you can trust him with your life right now.”

“I _can_ trust him with my life,” Rick snapped back, hands going to his hips as he met Shane's glare with his own. “Before I woke up I was trusting him with my life. And so was Carl. I wouldn't be here without him.”

Shane looked away first, rocking a little and being forced to acknowledge that. The story seemed so far-fetched, but it was hard to question the truth when it was literally standing in front of him. He sucked in a breath and then let it out in a long sigh, putting his hands on his hips, too. Mirroring Rick just like he used to. “Okay. You're right. But I don't trust Merle.”

Rick tilted his head, “And you don't have reason to. I don't much trust him myself. But he's Daryl's brother and I trust Daryl to keep him in line. Can you do the same? For me?”

He already knew Shane would say yes. And even if he didn't mean it, he would _try_ to mean it. Shane cared about him, cared what he thought. He wasn't so far gone yet that he couldn't be saved. They just had to keep Shane in line and not push him to the point that he thought Rick couldn't keep Lori and Carl safe. On that end, Rick and the others had an advantage. Not a big one, admittedly, but enough that Rick wanted to try. He didn't want to have to kill his brother again. Not if he didn't have to.

Shane nodded slowly, “Yeah. I can.”

“Thank you, brother,” Rick smiled at him, one hand lifting to hold Shane's shoulder for a moment.

The other man smiled in return and shook his head, “Man... you don't know how relieved I am to see you alive. When I left you there... I thought for sure you'd be dead in a week. And it... it killed me Rick.”

“I know,” Rick said, looking down and dropping his hand. “I know. I can see it in you. But I'm alive because of you. You know that, right? If you hadn't put that gurney in front of my door... That saved my life long enough for Carl to convince Daryl to do what he did. _You_ saved me, Shane. You have every right to claim that victory. You.”

Shane looked at him with pained eyes and Rick already knew he was half-wishing he hadn't done that because he wanted Lori and Carl so badly. But he still loved Rick. He wasn't too far gone.

…

Carl got the brunt of Lori's anger. Not because she wanted to take it out on him, but because she didn't have an immediate and easy outlet for it. Rick had gotten back and almost immediately decided they were all going to get up and leave. Didn't ask her about it. Didn't think that maybe their son, who had somehow talked three adults into going on with his crazy plan, should have been thought about. He'd already done enough traveling.

It was only because they found a walker near the camp about mid-morning, caught on the alarm line, that she was at all willing to move. She was more scared of them being right than she was angry at Rick. But she couldn't say that. Couldn't express that. Not in public where people could see her questioning her husband. Especially not after Merle had tried to undermine his authority by calling Daryl out like that.

Carl knew all that. It didn't make putting up with her fussing and sharp looks and even sharper words any less easy. He counted himself lucky he'd thought to give his knife and gun to Daryl for safe-keeping before they rode out that morning. If he'd still had them on him when he got out of that car, his mom would have ripped into his dad. He was not looking forward to that fight. But they could have it tomorrow or the day after. Not while they were packing up.

“Mom,” he whined, frowning up at her and hoping he could get her to release the apron strings for five minutes, “Can I _please_ go say goodbye to Eliza and Louis? I don't think they're coming with us and I might not have another chance.”

But his mom's hand tightened on his shoulder, “You can say goodbye when we're ready to leave. _If_ they aren't coming. Don't think I don't see right through you. You are staying by my side where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But mom-”

“Don't you but mom me, mister.” She stopped him in his tracks and knelt down in front of him to meet his eyes. “You are grounded. Do you understand me? Grounded. You are not to leave my side for any reason until I say so. I can't do anything else to make this get through to you so this is what you get.”

Carl hung his head and nodded, pulling his hat back into place as it tried to slip off, “Yes, mom.”

…

Sophia was making her way through the trees at the 'back' of the camp, carrying one of the bags Miss Jacobson asked her to, when she was grabbed roughly from the back. A hand clamped over her mouth and she recognized her father's voice going 'shhh' when she first started to struggle. She stilled immediately, knowing that it would be worse for her if she fought.

He released her mouth and set her down so she could walk. Then he started to lead her off, “Come on. We're getting out of here.”

“Momma said I couldn't go with you,” she answered and tried to pull her arm away.

She was met with a hard yank and fingers squeezing hard enough that there would be a bruise later, “Your momma's crazy. Now hush up and move it.”

Sophia quieted, looking behind her where she'd dropped the bag. She could see the rest of the camp moving around, getting their things put together past that. She turned her eyes back to her daddy and realized he had a back pack on. It didn't look nearly big enough to hold what they'd need for both of them. She wasn't an expert in camping, but she'd packed her bags to go to shelters with momma enough times that she knew how to do that much. He probably didn't have enough food for himself and he was rushing to get them out of there.

She frowned, suddenly angry at her father. She was still scared, but she was more scared of being out in the woods alone with him when he didn't know enough to take care of her. Sophia dug her feet in and pulled her arm down hard, trying to jerk it out of his grip.

“I said stop it!” he growled, stopping long enough to backhand her across the face the way he did to momma. He didn't give her the opportunity to slump against the ground and recover. Just shook her and forced her to stand on unsteady feet. Made her keep walking. She started to cry and hit her again.

Sophia didn't consider herself brave. She didn't consider herself much of anything. But she didn't want to be with daddy. Not alone. Not without momma. And momma was still back at the camp that was getting harder and harder to see as more trees were put between them. She continued to sniffle, eyes searching frantically for the sight of her momma before the camp was out of sight.

She didn't see her momma, though. She saw the white wings on the back of Merle's vest as he closed the tailgate of Daryl's truck. She saw him and she remembered what her momma had said. That Merle would protect her.

At that moment, Sophia did the bravest thing she'd ever done in her life: she screamed.

…

The scream broke out across the camp and was cut off so fast that the first thought everyone had was that a walker had grabbed someone.

“Sophia!” Carol's own strangle cry filled the sudden silence as she recognized that scream. It was the scream she heard in her nightmares. She yelled again and half the camp was running toward the source. She and Daryl and Merle leading the pack. Glenn out-distanced them within a few strides and he and Daryl ended up taking point as they raced through the trees looking for the girl.

Carol wasn't even aware they'd found her until another scream filled the air. One that came from a man who was very much alive. Not that he would be for long.

Daryl had fired a bolt into his arm, forcing Ed to drop Sophia. Her little girl scrambled out of her father's grasp and darted straight for Merle. When she got to him she practically climbed into his arms, fighting to get onto his shoulders and as far away from her father as she could. Merle took the sudden extra weight like a champ, tossing her up so he could hold her securely with one arm and inspect her for damage with his free hand. He didn't have to look far, the fresh bruising on her arm and on her face was enough.

By then most of the camp had gotten to where Ed stood, backed against a tree, Glenn's machete to his throat. Daryl had another bolt loaded, the 'bow aimed at Ed's face while a third bolt was grasped firmly in his teeth. He was more than ready to kill the man. Shane and Rick broke through the group, coming up short at the sight. But when Shane went to move forward, fists clenched, Rick threw a hand out and pushed him back by his chest. Shane didn't have a chance to protest as Carol moved past him, her knife out and murder in her eyes.

“Carol,” Rick called out, voice even. Already knowing what she intended. Glenn and Daryl did, too. “We don't need to kill him.”

Glenn released the man and stepped back. He met Carol's eyes because she didn't look back at Rick. He gulped and moved in close to talk to her in a hushed voice, “You don't need to kill him. I know you want to. But you don't have to. You can leave him here and he'll die on his own. He can't survive in this world, Carol.”

Carol shook her head, “It's not your choice to make, Glenn.”

“I know it's not,” he answered. “But with all we went through to get here...”

Daryl was next to her by then, his 'bow still trained on the man and his extra bolt in between his fingers. He spoke to her quietly, so that only she and Glenn would hear, “I got no problem with you killing him, you know that. But I think Glenn's got the right of it this time. Leave him here. Let him do himself in. We'll be doing enough killing in the days to come.”

“I made him a promise,” Carol answered evenly. Her voice was tight, but calm. “He touched Sophia. He has to die.”

Glenn shut his eyes and shook his head, then walked away. He knew he couldn't deter her on this. And truthfully, he didn't really want to. But he didn't want to be a part of it. Not an active one.

Daryl lowed his crossbow and took a step back before turning to start waving people off, “Man's gonna die. None of you need to see that. Get on back to camp before-”

“Carol! You can't!” Lori interrupted, holding Carl tightly to her.

“Don't sink to that level!” Dale added in, panicking a bit at Carol's transformation. “I know he hurt you and he hurt your daughter... and what he did wasn't right... but we can't just kill him.”

Carol took a deep breath and put her knife away. She spun on her heels and looked at Dale, “'We' aren't killing anyone. _I_ am going to kill him. I made him a promise.” She looked around the group, making note of Rick having leveled his gun at Ed so the man wouldn't try to run or jump her while her back was turned.

“ _You_ haven't lived with someone like that. _You_ don't know what it's like to live every day in fear that you'll say the wrong thing. Wear the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. Fear that something, maybe even something you've done before that never got you hit, will set him off. Fear that you won't wake up in the morning and your child, the light of your life, will be left unprotected!” She didn't yell, but her voice left no room for argument. She wanted him dead. He would die. And she felt completely justified.

Carol took another breath and smiled a thin smile, eyebrows raising, “If you don't want to witness it, you can turn around and walk away. But it's happening. It should have happened a long time ago.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. She was polite enough to give people some time to get over their shock and move off. Merle would have stayed, but he had the sense to know that Sophia didn't need to see her daddy get gutted. It was part of why he'd left home when he did. He would have killed his and Daryl's dad if he'd stayed. Carol knew that because of what Daryl had told her. She shot Merle a smile of thanks and gave Sophia a small wave.

By the time her daughter was out of sight, most of the camp had moved off. The only ones left were Daryl, Shane, and Rick. Shane wasn't okay with her plans, but with Rick not objecting he wasn't sure what to do. She could see it on his face. Daryl, of course, was there for her no matter what. She wanted to kill Ed, he'd be there to help her if she needed it.

She turned back to her husband who eyed her cautiously from where he stood. He was afraid of her. Really afraid. But she knew he'd fight back if she got too close and as good as she was with her knife, she didn't really want to deal with a man his size swinging at her.

Carol looked over to Rick and motioned for him to lower his gun. He did so quietly. Then she looked to Daryl as she pulled her knife back out, “Shoot him in the legs so he can't run.”

…

The group that left camp ten minutes later wasn't much bigger than it had been the first time around. Morales did indeed decide to head to Birmingham. The walker close to camp that morning and Glenn's insistence convinced him to leave at the same time the others did. So even though they couldn't get him to come along, they felt satisfied to know the family would probably live through the night.

Dale came with Andrea and Amy, more because they trusted Shane than because they trusted anyone else involved in the makeshift caravan. And Jim stayed with Dale because he had no one else to stick to. Lori and Carl went with Rick. Glenn road with Carol and Sophia in Daryl's truck, taking up the duties of navigator. Daryl rode bitch with Merle, the two of them scouting ahead, falling back every so often to check with Glenn about the route. T-Dog drove his van with Jacqui, Jessica, Stephanie, and Mitch. The last three being members of T-Dog's church who had trusted him to get them out of the city early on. Morgan and Duane rode in with Lori and Rick. Shane brought up the rear.

The rest of the survivors had decided to stay at the camp. Rick shared a few guns with them and some ammo. But not a lot. He knew it probably wouldn't make much of a difference when the herd came through that night. He still felt it right to try and give them a chance. Told them that if they changed their mind, to try for Fort Benning. It was all they could do.


	4. Expectations

"Is it the hose?" Glenn asked, coming around to look at the engine with Dale and Jim. The breakdown was expected and he'd already gotten a few spares set aside. Ones he'd scavenged from wrecks on the way to King County. He couldn't quite remember the size needed, so he'd gotten half a dozen of various sizes and hidden them in with his supplies.

Dale glanced at him, nodding, "Yeah. It's pretty much running on duct tape and prayer at this point."

"Pull it out," Glenn said, making a 'give it here' gesture. "I'll see if Daryl can take me out on the bike and find something with the right size."

"See if you can find a few spare batteries while you're at it," Jim grumbled, digging into the RV's engine to pull the hose out. "Anything that runs a hose that size should have a battery worth grabbing. If it's no good, we can toss it."

"Sure," the Aisan man replied, smiling as he turned to wave Daryl down.

"Hey, Glenn?" Dale reached out to stop Glenn's arm from coming up. "Maybe you should ask Shane to take you out in his jeep instead."

"Why?" Glenn's eyebrows knitted and his eyes flicked between Dale and Jim, since Jim was now looking at him with a bit of worry, too.

Dale shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear, "I'm not trying to second guess you here, but are you really sure Daryl can be trusted? I mean... the Dixons haven't exactly been-"

"I can trust him," Glenn said firmly. He knew there'd be questions. And as much as it hurt to see Dale unsure of Daryl again, he knew that Daryl would prove himself. Dale would come around. "I'll be safe. Don't worry." He took the hose from Jim and walked off with a wave.

…

Carol pushed herself on top of Lori's car, moving from the hood to the roof with an almost bored air. More walkers had shown up. This group had followed T-Dog and Jessica out of a garage. The two had panicked and ran straight for the circle of cars. Made too much noise and drawn more from further down the street.

She was happy they'd gotten inside the vehicle line, of course. She wasn't mad at them. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't exasperated. The two knew how to hit a house. She and Rick had showed them. It wasn't that hard. Not when there were only one or two walkers inside.

Carol grabbed the head of the nearest walker even as it reached for her. The knife in her other hand slammed home through it's eyesocket and it went limp. She let go, let gravity pull it off the blade, and reached for the next. The first three were all hers.

Merle joined her with his own blade as a fourth and a fifth crowded in. Four more were on their way. She was happy for the help. Happier that he'd taken to heart her snapping at him to shush up the first time they'd dealt with walkers at the stopover. She wasn't particularly inclined to be repeating herself if she didn't have to.

After the walkers had been taken care of, she hopped off the car and down onto the road beside the pile of bodies. Carol smiled up at Merle, "Help me move these?"

Merle eyed her for a moment and she thought he was going to refuse. But his face broke out in a grin and he jumped down next to her, "You sure are something else."

"Oh?" Carol grabbed the arms of the first one as Merle took hold of the legs. "Am I?"

"Sure are," he chuckled. "The whole time we been at that damn quarry you were acting all cowed and scared of that pissant husband of yours. But really, you was just biding your time. Waitin' until things got to a point you didn't need to hide behind him anymore. You even let your little girl stick around him when that whole time you coulda just put a knife in him and be done with it. You coulda done it and not blinked."

She raised an eyebrow, chuckled along with him, "Well, you're half-right."

"Only half?" He didn't look convinced.

"Only half," she affirmed, dropping the first corpse and heading back for the next. "I wasn't acting. I was cowed and scared of him. But the other day, I just woke up and all of a sudden, everything I'd been through caught up with me. I thought to myself, 'I don't want to live like this anymore'."

Merle pulled a cigarette out and lit it as he studied her. It wasn't a lie by technicallity, though she was by no means worried about him seeing through any tale she wanted to spin. But she got the impression he understood that same sort of epiphany. Even better than Daryl could. Something in his eyes.

He offered the smoke to her and she had to shake her head, "Thank you, no."

Merle shrugged and put it back in his mouth, then bent down to grab the next geek, "You'd think these fuckers wouldn't weigh so much. Rotted as they are."

The rest of the lifting was filled with surprisingly pleasant small talk. All shallow and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. But Carol could tell Merle genuinely enjoyed the company. He was easier to read than he liked to think.

…

"Carl!" Rick called out, catching the attention of everyone in the circle as Daryl and Glenn came into view at the end of the street, back from their run to get the hoses. The kid looked up in time to see a gun being tossed his way. He caught it and the belt it was holstered on was being slipped around his waist before his mom could get the first strangled protest out of her mouth. She'd grounded him, but his dad had just clearly revoked that grounding. He only felt a little guilty about the grin that split his face as he dashed for Shane's jeep and hauled himself into place.

"What the hell, Rick?" Shane voiced the general shock and horror of the rest of the group while Carl stood up and pointed his gun toward the on-coming bike. There was a chance the noise would draw walkers from the other direction, but there was a bigger chance there would be a small herd following the two. Carl didn't hear whatever reply his dad gave. He knew better than to split his focus when he was one of the (currently) two best shots in the group.

What did catch him by surprise was seeing Merle climb up next to him with a rifle. He realized he didn't actually know what Daryl's brother was capable of with two hands. He'd seen the man take down walkers with that bayonet-like stump attachment. But not with a gun.

"Measure your dicks later, ladies," Merle interrupted the argument going on behind them. "We've got company. Hope that hose was worth it."

"It was," Carl answered and lined up his first shot as the herd broke into view. They shambled a lot faster than he'd seen any do in a long time. They weren't as decayed and broken down by time anymore, so soon after it had all begun. He'd have to remember that.

Shane was still protesting, voice growing louder, and he knew the man must have been getting closer. Trying to get to him to take the gun away instead of protecting the group. "Jerk," Carl muttered and fired. The nearest walker, a good hundred yards away still, went down with a perfect shot to the head.

As the rest of the group opened fire – silenced guns only thankfully – Carl was happy to hear nothing else from Shane.

…

Lori was furious. Of course she was. Rick knew it was coming and he was going to take the brunt of it for Carl. They hadn't discussed that, but there was no way he could let his son get yelled at for defending the group the way he'd been taught.

"We had guns in the house, Lori!" He snapped after a good twenty minutes of exchanging soft, angry words. "You really think I was going to leave them in there and  _not_  teach him to respect them?"

She sucked in a breath, hugging herself and looking like she'd been slapped, "We agreed we would teach him not to touch them."

"And you really think that would have worked?" Rick asked back, falling on the story he'd told Morgan about why Carl was such a good shot. It fit with him being a cop. He knew the numbers on gun accidents. So did Shane. "Do you know how many kids get into their parents guns and treat them like a toy? I do! And I wasn't just going to sit around and let Carl become another statistic."

" _We had an agreement_ ," Lori spit out, nearly on the verge of tears. "And you-  _you_  broke that. And you  _lied_  to me about it."

He looked down, away, shook his head until he was nodding, "Yeah. I did. Because you wouldn't see reason on it."

She took a step back, " _I_  wouldn't see reason?"

"Yeah. I wanted Shane to teach him," he pointed at his partner, who was pretending not to watch the confrontation the same as everyone else. "He's taught kids younger than Carl. He's the best trainer I know and you couldn't see reason enough to let him teach Carl. You wanted him left to roam the house with a promise he wouldn't get into the guns and touch them."

"You don't think Carl would keep a promise not touch the guns, but you think he's responsible enough to learn how to use them?" She said it and he knew he really should have thought that through a little more.

He shook his head, lifted a hand, took a half a moment to find an answer, "No. I think he could keep his promise. But I didn't have as much trust in his friends when he'd invite them over. Peer pressure is a thing, Lori. You can have all the trust in the world in someone and that don't mean they won't make stupid descisions if they don't really understand something. If he respected what a gun could do, I thought it would make it easier for him to tell any friends no if they wanted to see them."

"I can't believe you..." she started in again.

"He's good, Lori," Rick cut her off, getting himself another glare. "Ask Merle. Ask Shane. They were right up there with him taking out those walkers. Ask them how many kills were Carl's. Ask them if he didn't know what he was doing. I taught him well, Lori. And we're going to need him to keep doing well if we're going to make it through this."

"He's just a child," Lori protested, pressing a hand to her mouth. "He's already lost out enough on being one, you don't need to be pushing him to grow up faster than he already is."

Rick reached out to put his hands on her shoulders, tried to sooth her, "I'm not pushing him to grow up faster. I'm not. But I am going to  _trust_  him. And if he wants me to treat him like an adult, I'm going to give him that respect so long as he acts like one. Today, he acted like one. Lori, look at me."

She was fighting back tears, staring at Carl where he sat with his face hidden by his hat. She didn't look at Rick immediately. Took a few deep breaths before she did.

Rick smiled at her, a sad, sorrowful smile, and reached up to brush her hair from her face, "He protected the group, Lori. And he kept himself safe while he did it. He didn't take any unnessecary risks."

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away. Walked over to Shane and looked down at him. When he looked back, she asked, "How did he do? Is Rick right? Did he do good?"

Shane glanced between her and Rick and Rick spread his hands. She looked back to see him do it. He had told her to ask Shane and Merle, he didn't exactly have the right to be upset when she did. Though he was. But he'd keep that hidden.

"He did," Shane answered, looking back up at her. "He's got a good eye. Every shot he made was a headshot. No wasted ammo. Either Rick is a better trainer than me, or your boy's got a talent for it. Knowing Rick, I'm inclined to think it's the latter."

Rick laughed and he saw Lori smile in spite of herself at the praise. Shane's assessment was pretty accurate. Carl really was a bit of a natural at it. Once he'd gotten used to the weight and kickback. He took it seriously, too. All Rick could really ask for.

Lori took another deep breath and started to nod slowly, "Okay. Okay." She stepped around Shane to kneel down in front of Carl. He lifted his head and smiled tentatively at her and she smiled back, unable to keep the pained look from her face. "You're still grounded. But you can hold onto the gun. Got it?"

Carl grinned and leaned into his mom's arms for a hug, "Yeah. I got it."

…

"Alright," Rick rubbed the back of his neck and waved everyone close to the RV's door. "We've gotten what we can out of the last two days. Tomorrow we head out at noon as planned. We should figure out what vehicles we're taking now so we can get things packed the way we need them in the morning."

Shane leaned against the side of the RV, arms crossed over his chest, "Well, we know the RV is the best bet for the most travelers. So that's going."

"Food, too," T-Dog said. "I think we should keep the van. It's good on space for people and food."

"Me and Merle can take his bike like we did before," Daryl volunteered, leaning against the RV on the other side of Rick. Rick glanced his way, nodding, and didn't notice the way Shane's jaw clenched at that. At how Rick looked to Daryl and not him. Daryl did, though. He was in the perfect position to. But he kept his head down so it wasn't obvious he had. Most people didn't pay attention to him enough anyway. Didn't understand how much he saw. He had no problem using that.

"That leaves the car, the truck, and the jeep," Carol said, looking around the group. "I think we should keep the truck and use it as we have been. All the extra gear that's easy to ditch. Leave the car and the jeep. Siphon what we can from them and go."

Shane shifted and drew attention back to himself by clearing his throat, "Four vehicles. That might be too many. Maybe we should ditch the truck and put the gear in the van."

Rick considered that. Daryl knew it was more of a dig at him than an honest suggestion, sound as it was. If Shane had to give up his jeep, he wanted Daryl to give up his truck. The man obviously expected protest. At least to Daryl's eyes he did. Daryl didn't feel like playing that game, though.

He shrugged, "I'm good with that. We can split the food between the RV and the Van still. If we have to split up, there'll be some for both groups."

"What about the guns?" Merle piped up from the back, licking his lips as attention turned to him. "How we dividing them up?"

Daryl eyed him briefly, already wise to that game, and then looked to Rick. Rick was already looking to him. Shane's jaw had tightened up again. Daryl gave another shrug, "Merle's ex-army. Sniper training. He'd be good to have on watch when we stop."

Daryl had the satisfaction of seeing Shane go pale at that. He and Merle had never telegraphed anything about their past or what Merle was capable of. That he was objectively deadlier than Shane if he wanted to be and it was only by the grace of Merle being a coked out mess half the time and Daryl keeping him in check that the man didn't do anything to prove it. He was perfectly fine trading a truck he didn't care about for that look right there.

Rick nodded, then looked to Merle, "We'll keep most of the guns in the RV. A stash of twenty rounds for every gun carried by those in the van can go with them. We use them only as a last resort, conserve as much as we can. And when we stop, you can join the watch rotation. We have two rifles you'll know how to use from when we cleared out the station. Pick the one you want tomorrow before we head out, keep it on you."

There was a lot of nervous shifting and wary looks, but no one spoke out against Rick. And Daryl had a second moment of satisfaction as just a hint of respect flickered through his brother's eyes before he turned away to have another smoke.


	5. Traffic

They arrived at the highway jam the day after they left Atlanta and one day before they'd been stopped by it the first time around. It was intentional, of course. Glenn and Daryl had talked about it when they had the chance during the days scavenging in the suburbs. When they were 'looking for hoses'.

It was safe to assume the noise of the engines was what drew the herd the first time around. So drawing the RV so far into the jam it couldn't easily turn around was out of the question. Doing that had given the walkers a lot of places to hide on their march up behind them which had led to that whole mess with T-Dog and Sophia and Carl and the Greenes. They weren't going to let it happen again.

When they got just outside the jam and Dale was eyeing it, Daryl told him to stop and stay there. He and Merle would take the bike through and see if they could find a path. Glenn had then followed up with a suggestion they back the RV up in case they needed to turn it around. When Rick walked over with Shane to see what the hold up was, Shane suggested they make camp for the day while a route was scouted and scavenge what they could. Lori protested as she had before and Carol shut her down with a sensible come back about how no one else was going to use it, so they might as well. Rick did the husbandly thing and went to support her when she looked hurt by the comment. Tried to sooth her worries. They had just gotten the RV pulled into position when T-Dog called the warning that walkers were on the way.

"Into the RV and the van," Rick ordered, grabbing the nearest people by the arms and glad they'd convinced Shane not to split into scavenging groups until the Dixons got back and could tell them what to expect out there. "Cover the windows and keep quiet."

"What about Daryl and Merle?" Jacqui asked as she hurried to obey. Rick got a rush of pleasant surprise that she was already starting to worry about those two. That the bonds of trust were starting to form in a way they hadn't the first time around. He was really happy they hadn't given her the chance to opt out at the CDC. He hadn't known her long, but he knew she was strong. A good woman.

Rick glanced behind him, toward the jam, and shook his head, "They know what to do. They'll be fine." He smiled grimly as he shut the van doors securely and started hooking the make shift curtains into place. "I trust them."

In the RV, a similar conversation was taking place. This time with Glenn and Andrea and even Dale. They had to trust that Daryl would keep Merle in check for a herd that size. They had to have faith.

…

Further out, near the middle of the jam, Daryl spotted the herd. He was in the back of a derelict pick-up and doing a quick survey of the land. He could just make out the rest of the group scrambling back into their vehicles before the first of the walkers came around the side of the RV. Glenn had been right about the engines drawing their attention. Even showing up a day ahead of time hadn't stopped them. They were just going to have to let them pass through.

"Merle!" he barked, banging a hand on the side of the truck to make sure he had his brother's attention. Get him to drag his head out of the back of car he'd been digging through. "Get up here and lay your ass down."

Merle shot him a dirty look and there was a strangeness to his eyes that had been building for a few days. Daryl recognized it as withdrawl. His brother hadn't had a hit and hadn't been able to find his drugs. He was going to be onery.

He cursed to himself because the timing couldn't be worse. They'd have do a forced detox once they got him to the farm. But his brother was already in a state to argue and make more trouble for the both of him and that wasn't something they could afford with the herd on the way.

Daryl took a look back at the walkers. They weren't fast but the distance wasn't that far. He cursed again, voice quieter this time when he hissed, "Dammit, Merle! We have incoming. Get your ass up here and get down."

"Let 'em come," Merle laughed, the sound ugly and angry and shredding Daryl's nerves even further. There wasn't anything he could do about Merle short of trying to beat his ass up. Which wasn't a real option because even unsteady from withdrawl, Merle was meaner in a fight than Daryl was. That or let his brother have what he was looking for.

He glanced back at the herd, his decision being made for him. There was no way he was going to let Merle get himself killed. Daryl dropped his bag and dug into it, pulling his brother's stash out. He figured it probably didn't matter what Merle took so long as it gave him a quick high and could quiet him down. Something that didn't take much prep. Daryl grabbed the bottle of painkillers sitting at the top of the bag and shoved the rest of the stash back in his bag.

"Get your ass up here and you can have the oxycotin," he growled, holding it up and giving it a shake like he was trying to make some mutt excited over a chewtoy.

Merle wouldn't have liked that comparison, but Merle was both too angry and too addicted to see the way he was being mocked. All he knew at that moment was that Daryl had been holding onto his stash the whole time. He'd probably try to beat the rest out of his brother later. Taking the pills had priority.

The man scrambled into back of the truck and caught the bottle before he could get to Daryl to snatch them away. His coordination wasn't that great, hands were shaky, and his whole body too excited for the rush that would come. Just a complete mess as he fumbled with the cap and dropped half the pills in the truck bed, then scrambled to grab them and shove what he could in his mouth.

Daryl hated to see Merle like that. Part of why he'd tolerated the drug use for so long. If Merle was getting regular hits he wasn't stumbling all over himself like the users on the street who'd do anything for a brief rush. And he hated himself for letting Merle be like that now. But the only way his brother could stop was if he was alive. And the only way to keep him alive at the moment was to keep him in the truck until the herd passed.

After his brother had shoved more than enough pills into his mouth to make Daryl worried he'd overdose and kill himself that way, he kicked Merle in the side and forced him to roll over. Then he was on his brother, holding a hand to his mouth and hissing into his ear to stay quiet. And none too soon, either, cause the moans of the dead were finally overcoming them. Within moments the truck was rocked as walkers shuffled right into it before letting themselves be pushed along the side just to keep moving forward.

Daryl held his hand over his brother's mouth and gripped Merle's shoulder even tighter. His brother stopped fighting pretty fast. Not because of the walkers, of course. Becuase the pills kicked in and he was too relaxed and feeling good to care what Daryl was doing. And then he was passed out cold. When he couldn't hear the walkers anymore, Daryl slipped his hand off Merle's mouth and around his neck. He held his brother close and tried not to cry.

…

Dale spotted the brothers limping back twenty minutes later, Merle thrown over Daryl's shoulder as the smaller man struggled to carry him alone. Glenn was the first to reach him, with Shane and Rick right behind. Carol and T came next. In moments Merle was being lifted by four people back to the RV and Daryl was having to explain his brother might have overdosed. That he'd had to let him. He was in a state few had ever seen him in. Almost broken with grief.

"We need to empty his stomach," Carol said, leading the group inside and stripping the bed of it's covers. No reason to let them get dirty when they induced vomiting. "Put him on his side and get his vest off. It's not loose enough around the arms to leave it. Rick, Shane, I'll need you to hold him. When I get him to throw up, he'll probably flail a bit."

Shane grumbled and complained about the man being coked up, but he did what was asked. Rick, too. Carol could hear Glenn and Andrea asking people to stay back, away from the RV. Give them space to do what they needed to.

She didn't waste time once she was sure the two deputy sherrifs had Merle as secure as possible. Carol patted his cheeks, didn't get a response, and let out a sigh before opening his mouth. A popsicle stick substituted as a tongue depressor and very shortly after the man's gag reflex was triggered.

"Oh, don't give me that," Carol teased Rick at his wince as she pulled her hand back so it wouldn't get covered. They'd both seen worse. Hell, they'd both dug their hands into worse, too. "You're a big boy, you can handle this."

"More worried about Shane," Rick laughed back, still cringing at the sounds Merle was making.

That got an expected chuckle from Shane and if they both hadn't been holding Dixon down, he probably would have punched his friend in the shoulder. "Ain't gotta worry about me. I was the one that handled the drunk tank and you know it."

Carol shared a quick glance with Rick and her small smile spread into a full out grin. It widened even further when Merle's gagging turned to coughing and the coughing to weak curses. She patted his head while he struggled with her forcing him to throw up, "That's it, Boo Bear. You let it all out and you'll feel better in no time."

…

Glenn pulled Daryl to the side once Merle was in the RV and spoke to him quietly. His friend wasn't in a good place. It was even worse than when Daryl shut down because at least that Glenn knew how to deal with. This frantic worry, the panic as he paced, it was new. Something Glenn had only seen a hint of once before, a very long time ago. When they'd found Merle's hand on the roof.

Even then, Daryl had been able to recover from it fast. He got his emotions under control after a couple of tense moments. But that wasn't happening this time around. Not with Daryl worried he might be directly responsible for his brother's death.

"Carl!" Glenn called, keeping one hand on Daryl's chest and hold him against the side of the RV. The touch was light. It was only enough for Daryl to feel connected to something. It couldn't stop the man if he didn't want to be stopped.

Carl looked over, as did Lori and the rest of the group. None of them were really far, which was the problem. He couldn't have them hovering. It would only stress Daryl out more and they needed to start their scavenging anyway.

He jerked his head toward the traffic jam, "Get everyone organized so we can go through this. Weapons and medicine are first priorities. Gas, too. We can't take everything, but a quick look through will help for the detour while we find a place to camp."

"Camp?" Andrea asked, interrupting. "You want to find a place to camp?"

"Once you have people on task," Glenn continued on, ignoring her for the moment which he knew he'd pay for later. "Take someone to get Merle's bike."

"Got it," Carl nodded and turned around to start pointing at people and making groups.

Only then did Glenn look to Andrea, "We can't get through this with the RV and with Merle... the way he is... we need to find a place off the highway to camp for a week or two. Give him time to recover and us time to figure out how we're going to deal with his problem in the future. It'll also give us time to either come back and move the cars or find an alternate route we can take the RV through."

He waved with his free hand, "This is all small town and farm land out here. There's probably more than a few farms set back from the road. We can take over a barn and have a roof for a while. Send teams up to clear this mess of all usable supplies. Once we have things figured out, we can keep going to Fort Benning. If it's survived this long, it's probably not going anywhere. And if Merle's out of commission, we shouldn't be either."

"I really don't think we should be waiting on Merle of all people," Andrea replied, crossing her arms and cocking her hips in that way Glenn remembered she'd do when she was pissed off.

Glenn shook his head, "I disagree. And I'm pretty sure Rick will, too. We do this for Merle same as we'd do for anyone else. If we have the time to spare, we spare it. It's what we do."

"It's what we do?" She lifted a hand so she could take a moment to try and understand what he was saying. "Four days ago he was calling you a chink and threatening to 'accidentally' toss you off a cliff for looking at him funny. He's done worse to Jacqui, T-Dog, and Jessica. We don't need to stop for a week or more to deal with Merle's drug problem. He's not worth the wait. Especially when he can just ride in the RV."

Daryl snorted and Glenn glanced over to see his eyes were clear. Andrea talking bad about his brother had seemed to get through to him, snap him back to where he needed to be. Glenn dropped his hand and stepped back.

Daryl shook his head, straightening himself up, then started to pace in a circle behind Glenn where his friend could metaphorically hold him back. "Yeah, sure. That'll work. And who do you expect ta watch his ass? Dale sure won't. You? Your sister? Glenn? Nah, don't bother answering. We all know it'd be me. And if I'm back there, who's gonna be taking the bike on the road ahead? No one, that's who."

He jerked forward to get in her face. He managed to do it while keeping a good two feet between them while he pointed at the ground, arm shaking in anger, "We don't move until Merle can move. If that means finding a place off the road to hole up so's we can protect ourselves from herds, then we do that. Fort Benning can wait."

Daryl stared her down for a couple seconds before breaking off and heading into the jam, "Carl! Hold up! I'll get the bike with ya."

…

Carl ignored the way his mother was looking at him when Glenn told him what to do. He knew the group wasn't sure about taking orders from a kid, but he also knew they were much more inclined to follow whatever Glenn was saying. There was confidence in the man that they weren't yet used to and it threw them off. They were at that strange place where things were too weird to not look askance, but not so weird that challenging Glenn made more sense.

He could hear the conversation Andrea was having and did his best to not let it distract him as he started pointing to people, "Mitch, Amy. You guys grab two gas cans each and start siphoning from the nearest cars. T-Dog, go with them with one of the crowbars. Watch their backs and take out any walkers that might still be around, wandering or in the cars.

They looked between him and Glenn and then Lori before nodding and shuffling off. Carl barely registered it as he turned his attention to the next group, "Dale, Jessica. I need you two back on watch. One on the roof and one further in with an eye on the other end of the wreck. Stephanie, Jacqui. Grab some canvas bags and check the nearest cars for medical supplies. That means medicine, bandages, first aid kits. Keep close. Don't go further than fifty feet. Once you've gotten whatever you can, go back through for non-perishable foods and toiletries. Priority goes to the food, though."

Carl looked to Lori, "Mom?"

She eyed him nervously, as if seeing her son for the first time. She wasn't happy about what Glenn had just done, but she clearly didn't know how to respond to it, either. Her son, who she saw as a 12 year old who needed to be protected from the world, was handling himself more like an adult than half the adults.

"Can you watch Sophia and Duane?" he smiled up at her. "Keep them in or close to the van in case we all have to duck inside again. Please?"

Lori bit her lip and nodded, smiling thinly, "Yeah. I can do that."

"Thanks," his grin widened and when she came over to lift his hat and smooth his hair down, he didn't protest. From how she was acting, he got the impression she'd decided to be proud of him for being so grown up.

When that bit of embarrassment was over, he looked up at Morgan, "And you can come help me with the bike. We'll check a few cars on the way up for weapons, too. Just through the windows."

Morgan was studying him, but he agreed with a quiet nod and then the two were off. Daryl joined them within short order. Something Carl was relieved about. He reached over to loop his arm around the man's waist and give him a quick hug. When Daryl returned it with a squeeze, Carl knew he'd be alright. Daryl could fall down with the best of them, and had more than once, but he put himself back together a lot cleaner than anyone else Carl knew.


	6. Relief

_She couldn't put a finger on what was making her so paranoid about staying. There was just this incessent feeling clawing away at her thoughts. It was getting so bad that she was having trouble sleeping. Everyone she'd tried talking to about it told her it was just the panic and desperation setting in. That a lot of people got to that point. She just 'needed to be strong' and not 'opt out'. Because she was the kind of person who could get through this._

_At best she ignored the patronizing words. At worst she told the people saying them to fuck the hell off with their bullshit. She wasn't suicidal. She just needed to leave. Hell, it wasn't like she was the first to feel that way._

_She tried to convince a few of them to come with her. To pack up and just go. Get out before things got really bad. But none of them would. They told her it was safe. That she was safe. That he was safe._

_But they weren't. That paranoia nagging at her told her so. And it grew worse every single day. Like there was a clock ticking down to the inevitable end if she didn't go. The fear both choked and suffocated until she had to leave._

_She couldn't stay._

_They couldn't stay._

_The camp wasn't safe._

_It wasn't._

_No one believed her, though. So when she left, she did so quietly, slipping out where the man on watch couldn't see her, taking only what was most precious to her in the world. Tears broke free of their own accord and she whispered a quiet goodbye to the people she'd come to care about that wouldn't live. There was a certainty in her gut that she couldn't shake. Somehow she knew, without a single doubt, that none of the others would live past the week._

_And as much as it hurt, somewhere deep inside, she fully believed they deserved those deaths._

…

Glenn was damn near desperate to see Maggie. He knew he'd have to rebuild a relationship with her. He knew it might not go as well as it did the first time around. Part of what impressed her then was how brave he was to go down that well and fish the walker out. And he really didn't want to do that again. They could just close the damn well off and he'd have to find another thing to impress her with or draw her attention.

He figited in the passenger seat of the RV and Dale reached over to pat his arm, “Don't be so nervous. Rick said the man he talked to was okay with us staying for the week. Our luck is finally looking up.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, sighing. “I'm just... See, there's this girl...”

“Amy?” Dale asked softly, throwing a glance behind him to make sure Carol and Andrea couldn't hear him. Amy was in the truck since Carol was in the RV to see to Merle.

Glenn shook his head, “No. Another girl. This place reminds me of her. She lived on a farm, too.”

“Ooooh,” the old man said in a knowing tone. “Do you remember where? If these folk made it through, she could have, too.”

“I was just thinking that,” he grinned. “She's actually around here somewhere. That's why I knew this was all farmlands and small towns. She uh... she told me about it. How she'd keep horses and her family raised cattle.”

Dale didn't blink at his twisting of the truth. He still wasn't that great at outright lying, but semantics and half-truths had become easier. He went quite for a second and Dale took it as him losing hope.

“We can see if these folks know her,” he said, voice full of encouragement and Glenn was really glad to have him alive again. If he could just get Dale to look at him like he wasn't a dumb kid, then things would be great. Relatively great anyway.

Glenn glanced behind him and then leaned over to keep the conversation between them. He wanted to share this with Dale even if he couldn't be completely honest about what was happening to them. “I asked her to marry me.”

Dale reacted much as expected, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“I did,” Glenn grinned, looking down at his lap and laughing before he lifted his eyes to watch the road again. “And she said yes. But we never got to have a proper wedding. Things were kind of insane at the time and now...”

He felt Dale's hand on his arm again, “I hope we find her.”

“I do, too.”

…

“We could let 'em have the barn,” Maggie suggested. Loudly. Meeting the glare her father sent her way inch for inch.

He took a deep breath and shook his head, “No. We can't. There's no room in th-”

“There would be if we cleared it out,” she interrupted, arms crossed. She hadn't been able to get anywhere with him the last few weeks. She also knew she couldn't do it herself. The arrival of the strangers gave her a golden opportunity to push him.

She couldn't explain how or why she'd changed her mind on the walkers. Just that there had been a growing sense of ill ease inside her that had finally come to a head when Shawn got bit while working on one of the fences. He died - he  _died_ – and it was really obvious he had. But her dad was convinced he was just sick. 

Otis had gone to put him in the barn with the others and Maggie couldn't let that happen. Not again. Not anymore. She'd grabbed the shotgun and followed them out. She'd leveled it and blew Shawn's head clean off before anyone had a chance to realize what she was doing. Otis and Jimmy had to wrestle the gun from her hands while she screamed at her father that they were dead and he screamed back that they were just sick and she had just killed her brother. 

All the guns they'd owned had been gathered together and Maggie wasn't allowed near them for fear she'd climb up to the loft and turn the barn into a turkey shoot. That had screwed her plans up pretty well. She couldn't take them all out one on one. Not without someone working the door for her to control the flow. And that wasn't going to happen. Her daddy and Patricia watched her too closely to allow that.

But now there were strangers that Hershel had agreed to let stay for a week. And there was something about them Maggie felt she could trust even if she'd never seen any of them before. She knew – and she didn't know how she knew it so completely – that they'd help her clear the barn if she told them what was in there. That somehow they could make things right with her father if they could just force him to watch it. To  _see_ that the things in the barn weren't living.

“I said no,” Hershel repeated, his ire rising to the point that she could tell those watching were feeling uncomfortable about the small confrontation. Which was prefectly good in her mind. But not, apparently, in their leaders.

“It's okay,” the man, Rick something or other, said, obviously trying to calm things down. “We can stay out in the yard near the house. There's a good clump of trees over there. We won't go anywhere on the property you don't want us to.”

Maggie looked away from her father as the last of the group rolled in. Let him think he'd won. Hershel turned just after her and watched the approaching RV for a moment before asking, “That's the last of them?”

“Yeah,” Rick answered, nodding and waving as the RV rolled up. “We got five inside there. Dale, Andrea, Carol, Merle and Glenn.”

“Glenn?” The name slipped out before she realized she'd said it, her eyes flickering over to meet Rick's. He met them and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He nodded, “Yeah. Glenn. Glenn Rhee.”

“Rhee... are you sure?” she asked, confused because that was a name she'd only heard in her dreams. Trapped with a face somewhere in a fog of visions that couldn't be real. A fantasy of a life with a man she'd never met before. Nothing concrete to those dreams but the name and the face and her daddy's pocket watch, freely, happily given.

“Yeah,” Rick's eyes squinted like he was trying to puzzle her out. Searched her face for something. Whatever it was, he couldn't seem to find it. 

But then it didn't matter anymore because the door to the RV was open and there were people coming out. And one of them held the face she'd seen in her dreams far too often the last few weeks. A little younger. A little softer. No sign of the tiny beard that had only just started to grow in. But his face all the same.

The world closed in for her and all the sounds bled away as she ran to him. Her father's shout, Beth's. The confused questions of the others. None of them really registered to her. It was just him and when he saw her,  _oh did he see her_ .

They were kissing before she could think to do anything else. Her arms wound tight around his neck and his arms around her waist. And the two of them seemed to melt into each other. All those dreams, all those fleeting visions she couldn't quite hold onto practically exploded into her head.

When she finally pulled away, but only enough to breathe because she wasn't going to stop touching his face or holding her forehead to his, it was all she could do not to laugh. To hold herself steady in his arms.

“Maggie!” her father's voice finally broke through to her. 

She turned and grinned, and did let herself laugh a little. Her father wasn't used to her being all over someone so publically. And generally she wouldn't be. But this was different. This was  _Glenn_ .

“Daddy,” she patted Glenn's chest, “I want you to meet Glenn Rhee. My husband.”

…

“So you didn't remember?” Carol asked Maggie while the girl helped set up the camp.

She shook her head, “Not until I kissed him. Before that, it was just... it was like something was there but I couldn't quite grasp it.”

“It was different for us,” Carol said with a sigh. “For some reason we kept repeating the same day over and over. But we could all remember how it was supposed to go. Thought we were dreaming at first.”

They'd all assumed that since Maggie wasn't part of the Atlanta group she wouldn't remember at all. That they'd have to force a repeat of certain events to get her and her family to follow them to the prison. It wasn't something any of them were particularly looking forward to when they were already going to have to deal with Lori confirming her pregnancy and however Shane reacted once it came out. On top of Merle's withdrawl. They already knew he could survive it since they met him at Woodbury the first time around. But that didn't mean they were looking forward to dealing with it themselves.

Maggie shook her head, “Must have been pretty surreal. It already is for me. I mean... why? How?”

“Don't know,” Carol answered, sighing again before she reached over and patted Maggie's arm. “And honestly, I don't really care about the hows and whys. The only thing we're sure of is that we're being given a chance to do this over again and do it _right_. Sophia's already safe. Jacqui, Amy, Jessica, Stephanie, and Mitch, too. We couldn't get everyone from the quarry to come with us, but we got our family. And we got some who could be family. That's what matters.”

Maggie gave her a smile and laughed, shaking her head. She clearly wasn't sure if she could accept that so easily. And Carol forgave her for that. She hadn't relived the same day over several dozen times. She had only vauge dreams and visions and the name of her husband to haunt her dreams.

Besides, Maggie being stuck dreaming held hope for the rest of their family. If she'd been trying to change things without really knowing why, then the others who made it to Alexandria had a good chance of doing the same. Maggie hadn't been able to clear out the barn yet and might not be able to before they all left at the end of the week, but she'd set it up so Beth was questioning the practice. Which they hoped meant she wouldn't be so keen on killing herself once it did happen. And it would. After Daryl returned from scouting the route to Fort Benning.

“Is Merle...” Maggie started, biting at her lip and looking toward the RV. 

Carol followed her gaze as Daryl stepped out, shaking his head before he walked over to Rick. She snorted in answer, “He'll be fine. We both know he's not going to abandon Daryl, not now. So as long as Daryl's with us, Merle will be, too. He just needs to get his ass out of his head and realize he doesn't need to fight the rest of us to keep his brother.”

Maggie nodded, took a deep breath, “How long do you think it'll take for him to recover?”

“Weeks, probably.” Carol stood up, finishing with the current tent and clapped the dirt off her hands. “Change of subject! Your father. He going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Maggie rolled her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets as she, too, stood up. “He should be done interrogating Glenn in a few hours and then he'll give me a good dressing down. And then he'll be fine. I never brought a lot of boyfriends home. Daddy didn't like to see them around if it wasn't serious. Thought it was a little disgraceful how many I'd go through.”

Carol had to laugh at that. It wasn't surprising Maggie was a bit of heartbreaker. The way she and Glenn had hooked up the first time around had seemed a bit fast. But they'd ended up having a deeper connection than just the physical. It lasted, too.

Maggie snorted, grinning along with her, “As long as Glenn isn't the one forcing the issue with the barn, I know daddy will love him the same as he did before. Don't worry about it.”

…

Daryl laid the map out on the hood of the Greene's car and pointed at the highway turn off, “We're right about here. There's a town a mile north by horseback we can hit for supplies the same as the jam, but the roads don't go direct. There's also a subdivision over this way. About ten years old from what I was told. Dangerous, though. Lots of walkers. The town's safer.”

“Think we can clear it out in a week?” Rick asked, glancing to him. 

Daryl shrugged, “The jam, sure. The town? Dunno. Not sure it'd be worth the effort to try.”

Shane leaned agains the car and scratched at his jaw, “We could send a small team in. Two, three people. Just to scout it. We got the people.”

“People don't have the trainin',” Daryl pointed out, biting on a thumb for a second. “That's what you should be doin'. Gettin' these folks ready to fight if they have to.”

He could see Shane straighten up in surprise at his words. Rick's eyebrows mirrored that. Daryl didn't much like Shane, but he had a good memory and he knew that half the reason T-Dog and Carol had survived as long as they did was because of Shane's gun training.

Rick started nodding and turned to his friend, “He's right. You should find a place around here people can drive off to in the mornings for a couple hours of practice. Handguns first, then shotguns and rifles. Knife work, too. So we don't have to keep using ammo when we don't need to.”

Daryl kept his head down, but he watched Shane's reaction as Rick spoke. The man seemed unsure at first, but increasingly in agreement as Rick continued. That was a good sign.

“I'll leave for Fort Benning tomorrow morning,” Daryl said since that part of the plan seemed decided. “Take someone with me since Merle can't go.”

“Who you thinking of?” Shane asked, eyes squinting in suspicion. Like Daryl was planning on kidnapping someone.

Daryl gave another shrug, “Was thinking maybe T or Jacqui. Whichever's better with a weapon. Just in case. Maybe Andrea. She seems pretty capable.”

“You really think Fort Benning won't be there?” Shane was directing the question at Rick this time. Since Rick was the one to suggest they send a scout ahead.

Rick sighed, hands going to his hips, “With what we've seen on the road, I think there's a good possibility of it. And it don't hurt us none to check before we all get back on the road. If it's fine, we go. If it's not, we'll know and we'll have time to try and find another place with walls and room for us. Someplace safer than... this.”

'This' being the farm. It was nice, but with no walls, it sure weren't safe. At least Shane seemed to get that and wasn't questioning the need to get moving in a week's time. Even if Daryl had been the one to point it out. Small victory that it was.

 


End file.
